The Warden & The Inquisitor
by X-MENobsession
Summary: "Technically... she's my second cousin." The Inquisitor and the Hero of Fereldan have a past connection, and when the Hero asks for a favor secrets will be revealed and relationships tested. Takes place post DAI but NO Trespasser spoilers. [Cousland, Alistair] [Trevelyan, Cullen]
1. Chapter 1

**The Warden & The Inquisitor**

 **AN: The Inquisitor and the Warden have an unexpected past, but when the Warden calls on the Inquisitor for an unexpected favor everything will change. [Cousland, Alistair] [Trevelyan, Cullen]**

Rhysa Trevelyan squinted at Lake Calenhad. Cullen was right; it did look like a bunny. Josephine droned on about something but Rhysa found it hard to focus. Ever since Corypheus had been defeated the Inquisitor had been able to go out and fight some remaining Venatori and darkspawn but for the most part the only requests given to them were from nobles seeking to gain political advantages by allying themselves with the organization that saved Thedas. If there was one thing Rhysa hated it was politics.

She scanned the room quickly. Josephine read from her ledger dutifully and unobservant of her colleagues' disinterest. Leliana absentmindedly twirled her dagger and stared into space. Cullen leaned against the war table, looking intently at the Anderfels. He did not blink or move and Rhysa wondered if he had fallen asleep. She was fairly certain he could sleep with his eyes open; perhaps it was a skill of the templars. While Josephine paced the floor, Rhysa decided to test this theory. She picked up one of the markers they used for the map and threw it at Cullen. It hit his arm lightly and he blinked and snorted loudly. Leliana, who witnessed the entire event laughed and Josephine turned to look at her companions.

"Is there something I missed?" the ambassador asked.

"I think we're all just tired," Rhysa replied. "Is there anything more on the agenda?"

"Just two things. I saved them for last."

Josephine seemed earnest so Rhysa asked, "What are they?"

"Well, I received notice that Chef Giroux has agreed to cater your wedding! He had other arrangements that weekend but I convinced him to… change them for us." Josephine beamed proudly at her accomplishment but Cullen and Rhysa only smiled faintly. "He is the best chef in all of Orlais!"

"It's true," Leliana added. "And I'm sure his food tastes even better when it hasn't been poisoned."

"Thank you," Rhysa said in the quiet that ensued. "Really, we appreciate it. It's just that Cullen and I aren't exactly… party people. If this wedding were solely up to us to plan we'd be married in the barn or on top of the barracks."

"That's not a bad idea," Cullen commented, and Josephine sent him a spiteful look.

"What was the other message?" Rhysa asked.

Josephine resigned to the fact that her wedding planning duties would not be fully appreciated until the actual wedding day and read the next letter on her ledger. "This one is most exciting. The Inquisition has been cordially invited to the birthday party… of King Alistair Theirin of Fereldan!"

"Oh Alistair!" Leliana reminisced. "It will be lovely to see him again as well as his wife, the Hero of Fereldan."

"No," Rhysa stated calmly but firmly and all eyes in the room fell on her for such an unexpected response. They seemed to be waiting for an explanation but the Inquisitor never offered one. She simply folded her arms and stared blankly at the map in front of her.

"Uh… Rhysa," Cullen started. "Is there something wrong?"

"Everything is fine," Rhysa continued in the same tone. "We're just not going to that party."

"Do you… know the king?" Josephine asked tentatively.

"We've never met."

"His wife then?"

Rhysa immediately tensed and remained silent.

"Rhyan Theirin is a good friend of mine." Leliana examined the Inquisitor, using her skills to try and find answers in her body language. "If there is a problem, I'd be interested to hear of it."

Rhysa finally looked up. Her gaze rested on Cullen and her eyebrows lifted in the slightest way that her betrothed understood as a plea for help. He realized that she clearly didn't want to reveal something but he was just as confused as the others and required an answer. A sigh and shake of the head told Rhysa she wasn't getting out of this.

"Rhyan Cousland… _Theirin_ ," Rhysa shifted from one foot to another and stared at the floor. "Well, technically… she's my second cousin."

A gasp echoed throughout the room but Josephine was the first to speak. "If we had known this…"

"It wouldn't have made a difference!" Rhysa readily defended herself. "We took down Corypheus and closed the Breach even without the help of Fereldan or its precious Hero. We never needed their help."

"Nonetheless…"

"No." Rhysa returned to her former stance.

The advisors looked at each other and conducted a silent conversation. Through a series of raised eyebrows, mouthed words, and small gestures it was decided that Cullen would talk to the Inquisitor, much to his chagrin. "I suppose this meeting is over then," Leliana stated and she and Josephine left the war room.

Though Rhysa stared at the floor she felt Cullen move to stand behind her and then wrap his arms around her. "I don't want to talk about it." He said nothing but rested his chin of her shoulder and his warm breath was somehow a comfort to her. "And I don't want to go to that party."

Cullen laughed. "You should know I'm the last person to try and convince you to go to some noble's stuffy _soiree_."

Rhysa relaxed into his grasp. She bit her lip in thought. "I suppose I could try and explain…"

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Alistair approached his office to find his wife sitting at the desk, rifling through a pile of paperwork. Not wanting to interrupt, he leaned against the door frame and watched her. She had only been home from her journey to end the calling a few weeks, returning with no more answers than she had left with, and while she physically walked through the palace anyone could tell she wasn't really _here_. Strands of her bright red hair fell into her face as she poured over some report and she mindlessly pushed it aside, making Alistair grin, but only momentarily. Everything she did reminded him of a distant past, when they were just two young wardens madly in love. But that made him remember how different things were now. It had been 10 years and they were undeniably older, more hardened, and with the same unspoken argument always hanging between them.

"Excuse me, miss," he started, deciding to finally make his presence known. "I'm afraid you're in the wrong place. This is the _king's_ office."

Rhyan looked up and her brow raised when she realized it was her husband who addressed her. "I'm sorry. When I arrived there was no one here. It seems I'm providing Fereldan with a much needed service." She spoke with the same teasing tone that she and Alistair had always used with each other, but there was a subtle brutal honesty to her speech.

Alistair noted this, but continued anyway. "I was just here," he whined. "I left for lunch. Did you want me to starve?"

Rhyan ignored this argument. "How do you get anything done here? Nothing is in order! Did you know there's an entire stack of letters and memos that need to be responded to?" She picked up the pile of papers and Alistair snatched it from her.

"I have a system," he asserted, leafing through the pile. "If it's more than two pages long, I won't read it." He grabbed a handful of papers and dropped it into the rubbish bin. "If it's signed by someone with three or more titles, they're a pompous arse and I won't read it." Another pile went to the trash.

Rhyan grabbed what few papers remained in his hand and read one. "Your Majesty, The Orlesian chocolate you requested for your birthday has been delayed. While it is still expected to arrive in time for your party, I have taken it upon myself to also order some Antivan chocolate. It is a bit spicier but I believe you will enjoy it. Your faithful servant, Chef Alton."

"See?" Alistair laughed. "My system gets rid of all the junk and keeps the important bits."

Rhyan cracked a smile and her gaze on her husband softened quite a bit. "Speaking of your party, where are the RSVPs?"

Alistair groaned and pulled a stack of cards out of a drawer in his desk. Shuffling them, he read aloud, "Hate him, hate him, don't even know them… Can't I invite who _I_ want to _my_ birthday?"

"And who do you mean by that?"

He thought for a moment. "Oghren was always fun at a party."

Rhyan laughed, an unusual sight as of late. "Sure, why don't we just invite Sten and Zevran while we're at it?"

"That would be great!"

"You do realize none of these people actually have addresses, right? I wouldn't even know how to begin to contact them."

"Well, Leliana's a part of that Inquisition, isn't she? You know, the people who are building an army in the mountains." He turned his gaze sideways and added quietly, "I should be more concerned about that, shouldn't I?"

"The Inquisition has already been sent an invitation." Rhyan became stoic. "We'll see what the Inquisitor responds."

"Ohhh," he stretched out the word. "That's right. She's like your sister's aunt's niece or something, right?"

"Second cousin," Rhyan corrected curtly and began to absentmindedly tap her fingers against the wooden desk.

Alistair could see that his wife's mind had already left the room. His instinct was to go to her, hug her, or even just place a comforting hand on her, but for some reason he remained where he stood. He did, however, manage to let out in a somewhat soothing voice, "Is everything all right?"

Her gaze shot up towards him. "Yes." He could tell she was lying. "It's just that… there's so much to do. Your birthday is approaching quickly and I've only been home for a short time…"

Once again Alistair hesitated before asking, "Do you want to talk about it?" Rhyan had never told him the full story about what happened while she was away. She had mentioned bit and pieces and announced that all of her leads had ultimately been dead ends, but there was clearly something she left out.

"I've told you all there is to tell right now." Rhyan looked at the RSVP cards still in Alistair's hands. "Perhaps there will be more soon enough."


	2. Chapter 2

**The Warden & The Inquisitor**

 **Chapter 2**

 **AN: I'm trying to come up with a better title…**

Rhysa leaned into Cullen's strong body as she considered what to say. "We're just second cousins. It's not that big of a deal, really. Our families would mostly see each other at holidays. With our age difference Rhyan and I weren't exactly close friends growing up but… family." The last word was lightened as if she had fallen into a short reminisce.

Cullen let out a half smile. "So you knew the Hero of Fereldan before she was a hero?"

Rhysa chuckled. "I knew her as a mischievous young girl who had her father wrapped tightly around her finger." In a lower voice she added, "She always did like power…"

"So what happened?"

Rhysa bit her lip and wrenched herself free of his hold. "You know the story. She became the Hero of Fereldan." Sitting on the nearby bench, she ran her fingers through her copper curls and sighed. "We all thought she was dead until we heard news that the Grey Warden who killed the archdemon was Bryce Cousland's daughter. And marrying the new king. My family was invited to the wedding but I… didn't go. I haven't even heard from her in Maker knows how long."

"But she's contacting you now. Perhaps she wants to make up for lost time."

"Hmph!" Cullen raised an eyebrow and sent a crooked grin her way, compelling her to expand on the uncontrollable grunt. "You remember what I was saying about Rhyan loving power? And she's certainly managed to attain enough of it for herself. Warden-Commander, Hero of Fereldan, Queen…" She stopped her short tangent. "She hasn't tried to contact me once in all these years. So why now?"

"Ah," Cullen breathed knowingly and sat next to her, placing a hand on her knee. "So you suspect she's interested in the Inquisitor rather than an estranged relative."

Rhyan stared down at the large hand, tracing the scars on his knuckles. "Trust me, that was not a 'come celebrate my husband's birthday' invitation, it was a 'come show the world what good friends the Inquisition is with the nation of Fereldan'."

"I understand." Rhysa breathed a sigh of relief and the pair was silent for a time until Cullen continued, "But we have to go to that party." The Inquisitor jumped and his hand fell off her knee as she shot him a look of betrayal. "You really think Josephine is going to let this go and reject a direct invitation from the Queen of Fereldan? And Leliana is one of their closest friends! Whether we want to or not we _have_ to go."

Rhysa managed to fight her instinctive flood of anger and resigned to her fate. Letting out a loud groan she dropped her head onto Cullen's shoulder and he returned his hand to her knee, patting it sympathetically.

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As a child Alistair had never had a proper birthday party. Clearly the birth of the king's bastard wasn't something anyone felt the need to celebrate. He looked at the ballroom filled with nobles and dignitaries just clamoring to wish him well and suddenly longed for the inconspicuousness of his childhood. He begrudgingly shook hands and made small talk with every guest that approached while trying not to think about how badly he needed to scratch his behind.

"They're not here yet." Rhyan suddenly appeared at his side. He'd forgotten how silently she could move.

"It's a long way from the Frostbacks," he said after he had settled back into his own skin.

"Or they're not coming." Rhyan touched her hair, a nervous tick that made Alistair laugh to himself.

"If they said they're coming then they'll be here." He looked around at the bustling ballroom. "Unfortunately everyone who's said they're coming is here."

"Oh, it's not so unfortunate, is it?"

Alistair turned around at the sound of the familiar voice. "Teagan!" He gave his sort-of uncle a hug. "I wasn't sure you'd make it."

"We'd never miss your birthday." This was the first time Alistair noticed Teagan's wife Camille. She was a pretty thing and quite a few years younger than him, but Alistair was pleased with how happy she made the Arl.

Rhyan stepped forward and gave both guests a welcoming kiss on the cheeks. "Your Majesty," Camille started, looking the Queen up and down. "So I suppose the rumors were untrue. Not that I participate in such things." She added the last part hastily.

"Rumors?"

Teagan rubbed his temples. "There was a… _theory_ that your recent absence from court was due to you being with child and wishing to stay away from the public eye."

Rhyan shifted from on foot to another and smoothed her dress restlessly. Alistair rubbed the back of his neck and said, "Sorry to disappoint." He meant it as a sarcastic comment but it came out drenched in bitterness.

Teagan took note of this and grabbed his wife's arm. "Come Camille, I see Bann Loren over there and you know how he gets at parties. We should go say hello before he's too drunk to remember." The Arl unceremoniously dragged his wife away from the monarchs.

Left alone, Rhyan and Alistair took an impulsive sidestep as if to make room for the growing wall between them. This is was not the first time questions of an heir had come up; in fact it was quite common. But it persisted to sting every time. In truth, their childlessness was not due to lack of want or trying. Alistair recalled the last fight they had on the subject when he suggested they accept the fact it may never happen and try to find someone able to serve as next in line. Rhyan left the next day to find a cure for whatever it was in Warden blood that gave their lives such tragedies as this and the calling, and they hadn't properly discussed it since she returned.

Alistair cast a quick sideways glance at his wife who was fiddling with her hair nervously. He took a deep intake of breath and started to speak when she interrupted him, "They're here!"


	3. Chapter 3

**The Warden & The Inquisitor**

 **Chapter 3**

Rhysa smoothed her dress restlessly. She and her advisors stood in front of the large doors to the Denerim Palace, and, though the entire trip there she had been completely confident, now that they were practically within earshot of the nobles she felt a sudden wave of nerves. She looked up and caught the eye of Cullen who couldn't help but give her a devilish smile. She assumed it was due to the form-fitting gown Lelinana had forced on her and while it made her slightly more self-conscious it also relieved her a bit to know she didn't look hideous in it.

"Inquisition," Josephine rallied her comrades. "We are at a monarch's place of residence. And while I have no doubt in your tact…" Her eyes rested on Rhysa and Cullen. "…please, let us all be on our best behavior."

Rhysa took a deep intake of breath before pushing open the doors. Once inside she was forced to wait while her companions were announced. Finally she was gestured forward and her title was called for her to approach the King and Queen of Fereldan. "Lady Trevelyan, The Herald of Andraste and Inquisitor…" Rhysa was surprised not to hear 'second cousin of the Hero of Fereldan.' She entered the ballroom with all the obligatory grandstanding needed of her, but this was Fereldan and not Orlais; titles were announced and then forgotten amongst the incessant stink of dogs. Before she knew it, Rhysa stood in front of Alistair and Rhyan Theirin and found she had nothing to say. She remained there, mouth agape and body wondering if she should curtsey to the girl she had once found enacting a pretend wedding to King Calenhad himself, when Josephine thankfully broke in.

"Your Majesties," the Antivan started and bowed diligently. "It is an honor. I am Josephine Montilyet, Ambassador to The Inquisition."

"A pleasure." Rhyan quickly replied. "I have known an Antivan, and they are most welcome company."

Josephine smiled politely. "And the Inquisition hopes it is among such welcome company."

"Of course," Rhyan responded and gave ever so slight a nod but it implored Josephine to move aside and Leliana stepped forward.

The spymaster sent one glance toward the King and he immediately shrieked, "Leliana!" to which she fell forward into his arms in an embrace. She then did the same with the Queen who looked at her and stated amidst a hearty laugh, "It appears the Inquisition has found your skills to good use."

Leliana responded with a slight chuckle and, "Yes, I am certainly kept busy," before breaking the hold and looking at the noblewoman from an arm's length. "And I'm sure you are as well?"

"Certainly, since I returned," was the Hero's only response and Leliana chose to accept this as she moved aside.

Cullen was the next of those who were to be acknowledged. "Commander," Alistair remarked authoritatively. The men shook hands for a moment, examining each other until the Hero interrupted in a soothing voice, "Hello, Commander. You're certainly looking… _better_ than last we saw you."

Cullen's face turned red and his eyes darted away in embarrassment. "Th…thank you. I _am_ better."

"You've met?" Rhysa asked from her place in line. Josephine couldn't help but scowl a bit at the Inquisitor's insistence on speaking before being properly greeted, but Rhysa's curiosity had to be sated.

Rhyan continued to look at Cullen, and he continued to look anywhere else, as she spoke, "Yes, at the Fereldan Circle Tower. That must have been…" she gazed off for a moment and then her eyes widened. "10 years ago!" Casting a furtive glance toward her husband, Rhyan moved her attention to the Inquisitor and Cullen exhaled. "Rhysa, I… it's good to see you."

Rhysa was inclined to bow and follow what bits of noble manners she had gleaned during her childhood, but the recent thought of her love having contact with Rhyan many years before their meeting caused her to forgo all of it. There was a surge of hot jealousy through her veins. Cullen did not speak of his experiences in the Fereldan Circle to anyone, and what little he had revealed to her she held as a precious example of his trust. To learn that Rhyan, of all people, was actually _there_ made her blood boil. "It is a long way from the Frostbacks," she began, with no formal greeting or pleasantries. "So you understand we can't stay long."

Rhyan's face fell, giving the Inquisitor a shot of guilt (however brief). "Please… I'd love to speak with you further, but at the moment I'm forced to entertain our other guests. If you could only stay until later in the evening I'd appreciate the chance for us to talk. We have a full bar and plenty of food to entertain you until then…"

Rhysa didn't want to accept such a desperate plea, but her advisors were clearly eager to stay and once again she felt compelled to give in to what she knew were Rhyan's ulterior motives. She bowed her head ever so slightly and the Hero of Fereldan beamed.

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Alistair wandered outside the ballroom and down the hall as if he wasn't aware of where he was headed, though he knowingly opened the second door on the right that lead to the kennels. Inside, he found Inquisitor Trevelyan sitting on the floor among a litter of Mabari pups and their cautiously watching mother. "I… I'm sorry," Rhysa realized she had been caught somewhere she shouldn't be and made to stand, but the king held up a hand to stop her.

"Please, don't get up on my account. I'm just surprised you found my hiding spot."

Rhysa relaxed into the pile of dogs and was caught a bit off guard when the king sit down beside her, a puppy running onto his lap and he returning the gesture with a loving scratch behind the ears. "So you wanted a reprieve of the social responsibilities of my birthday as well?" he absentmindedly asked.

Rhysa looked down and remained silent. She could think of a few reasons she didn't want to be at the party but all of them seemed rude to say directly to the birthday boy. But she didn't have to say anything for Alistair to read her mood.

"We're very happy the Inquisition could make it." Once again, Rhysa didn't respond, fully aware that her silence was just as rude as the comments running through her head. "Rhyan told me the two of you lost contact some time ago. She's really looking forward to talking to you."

"What does she want from me?" Rhysa finally blurted out. "She pretends I don't exist for 10 years and then, all of a sudden, invites me to a party? And isn't it enough that I even came? I played along with her little show and spoke to nobles whom I had no interest in ever meeting and she still wants to 'talk'. I know she wants something. What is it?" As soon as she finished she realized what a mistake she'd made. If Josephine had been there she'd have surely died from witnessing such impropriety, but Alistair didn't seem to mind. He didn't look angry or even amused like he so often was, instead there was a faint blanket of sorrow over his face, only making Rhysa feel guiltier.

"You're right," the king spoke softly. "She's definitely up to something, but I know about as much as you." A puppy licked his finger and he rubbed its soft belly in return as he thought. "But whatever it is, Rhyan is no villain. Of that I'm certain. It's worth it to at least see where she's leading us."

The word 'us' resonated in Rhysa's head as she wondered what connection Alistair felt he had to all of this. Did he know more of what his wife wanted than he let on? Or was he finding camaraderie in the only other person who didn't trust the Hero. "So just wait and see?"

Alistair looked and gave her a slight smile and nod. "Hopefully we won't have to wait too much longer."


	4. Chapter 4

**The Warden & The Inquisitor**

 **Chapter 4**

The party was winding down as Rhyan searched the much less crowded ballroom, unable to find the Inquisitor. She did, however, spot Commander Cullen in an empty corner of the room examining a painting of Queen Mairyn.

"Cullen," the Queen began, giving the former templar a start. "We weren't able to speak much earlier. Are you enjoying yourself?" In reality, Rhyan was simply betting on the assumption that when Rhysa did eventually come out from hiding she'd go to Cullen first.

"Quite. I've forgotten how much I missed Fereldan food."

Rhyan chuckled. "I don't hear that often enough. I hope you've made the most of our buffet?"

He patted his belly absentmindedly and replied, "Oh, yes." Examining the Queen, he managed to form more words. "I didn't properly thank you." She waved her hand dismissively, but he insisted on continuing. "You saved my life. That's nothing to forget. Thank you, Rhyan Theirin. I did not believe I would survive the circle until you arrived."

"I did not know what I would find," she replied. "But finding you was... I don't believe I fully conveyed just how happy I am to see that you are well. And I'm glad the Inquisition had pulled you away from the Templar order, which has certainly seen better days."

Cullen recalled the Templars' recent descent into darkness from the use of red lyrium. "I can't complain."

Rhyan laughed. Cullen couldn't help but join in from the familiarity of such amusement. And it was then, amongst their communal enjoyment, that Rhysa approached.

"Is there something I missed?" she asked, hands held at her hips in a discontented way.

"We were just…" Cullen attempted to begin, in the way he knew his love would accept.

But Rhyan thought she knew Rhysa better. She spoke calmly and appropriately. "I was hoping you'd find me." Rhysa smirked, but the Queen continued nonetheless. "Could we speak now?"

"Go on."

At this point the few people left in the ballroom had noticed the women. Leliana, Josephine, and Alistair approached, listening intently. "I'd prefer if we spoke in private," Rhyan released through gritted teeth as she noted their audience.

"Whatever you can say to me you can say in front of my advisors," Rhysa replied. "I'm going to tell them everything anyway."

Rhyan looked to her husband who folded his arms in a defensive stance that told her he wasn't leaving either. She resigned and spoke soundly, "I've heard many stories of your Inquisition and how you defeated Corypheus. I am happy to see what a… competent woman you've become." Rhysa grunted, watching her relative through slit eyes. "And it is because of all that you've accomplished that makes me believe you can help me with something. You see, I find myself in a situation…"

Rhysa threw her hands in the air. "I knew it!" She quickly realized the scene she had made and folded her arms to keep them still and spoke in a lower, but still excited tone, "So what is it? You want the Inquisition to formally declare fealty to you? Or better yet, why not just take Skyhold and fill it with Fereldan soldiers. It would make a great fortress against Orlais."

Rhyan cocked at eyebrow but remained mostly calm. "We can certainly discuss those ideas another time, but that is not what I had in mind."

"What makes you think I'm going to help you at all? After you so clearly only contacted me for a favor, which, by the way, I knew all along." She sent a spiteful glance toward her advisors. "Are you going to play the family card, because the time for that has long past. Or maybe try to convince me of my duty to my country, but I will remind you, dear cousin, that I am no Fereldan."

Rhyan was silent a moment, seemingly sizing up her opponent, but always remaining composed, unlike Rhysa whose temper had already blown. "I have a sacred duty to the Grey Wardens. I believe I may have found a way to end the Calling, but it would require your assistance."

Rhysa seemed somewhat taken aback, though not nearly as much as Alistair who immediately jumped into the conversation. "You found a cure? Then you lied to me!"

"What I found means nothing without the Inquisitor's help. That is why I did not tell you about it. Also…" Rhyan bit her lip and avoided eye contact. She didn't seem to want to say what was coming next but thankfully Rhysa interrupted her.

"I'm not sure if you're aware but the Grey Wardens recently went crazy. They used blood magic to build a demon army."

Rhyan clearly had a response to this but her husband got there first. Taking a step forward, his attitude had changed entirely from the kind man Rhysa spoke with in the kennels. "Did _you_ hear Corypheus' Calling? Did _you_ see your inevitable death every night in your dreams? Because I did, and I understand the things a person is willing to do in that state." He seemed to calm slightly. "Besides, if Rhyan truly has found a cure, it would prevent events like that from ever happening again."

A twinge of fear entered the Inquisitor from the King's tone, but he had a point. The Grey Wardens were either heroes or trouble; curing them may be in everyone's best interest. She remained skeptical, though. "What exactly is this favor?"

Rhyan smiled, seeing that she was getting somewhere. Then she hesitated at the realization that she couldn't avoid this part any longer. "I understand the Inquisition was recently assisted by a certain… witch."

"You mean Morrigan?"

Rhyan could feel Alistair's entire body tense beside her. They never spoke of Morrigan. "Yes," she replied. "I need to find her."

"She disappeared. I don't know where she is."

Alistair was practically shaking from anger, but Rhyan continued. "I believe I could find her if I was permitted to come to Skyhold. Morrigan likes to thinks she's quite elusive but there are _ways_ of tracking her down."

It was a simple request but Rhysa still felt like she was being used, and she hated it. But Alistair's words rang through her head. To save the Wardens she would have to work with Rhyan. "Okay," she finally said dejectedly.

Rhyan almost seemed like she wanted to hug the Inquisitor, but held herself back. "I'll make preparations to leave as soon as possible."

Rhysa nodded and Leliana stepped in, seeing how tired the woman looked. "Then I suppose we shall take our leave now. It is a long trip back." She hugged Rhyan. "I look forward to seeing you again." Then she moved on to Alistiar. Placing a gentle hand on his clenched jaw she smiled up at him. "For every boon, there is a price to be paid."

The spymaster turned away and left with her group, leaving Alistair no calmer than before. He turned to where is wife had stood, but she had silently slipped away. She would not evade him this time, though. Turning on his heels, he set out to find her, heart pounding with rage.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Warden & The Inquisitor**

 **Chapter 5**

He found her in the armory, digging through a crate of gauntlets. Her back was to him, but she could feel his fiery gaze burning through her. "Where is my gear?" Rhyan asked innocently, pretending not to be aware of her husband's ire.

Alistair clenched his fists and let out a low growl. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She paused briefly. It would have been unnoticeable to anyone else, but he was too familiar with her movements. "Because I knew you'd respond like this."

"Of course I would!"

She stood up and twirled around to face him, her face hardened and defiant. "What would you have me do? Sit around here for another decade or two until I die alone in the Deep Roads? Don't we both deserve better? Don't all Grey Wardens?"

"But does it have to her _her_?" he huffed.

Rhyan didn't answer and turned to continue rifling through the crate, infuriating Alistair even more. He grabbed her wrists, forcing her to face him. She squealed slightly and he loosened his grip, still keeping her in place. Staring at her, his amber eyes ablaze, he roared, "No more lies, Rhyan! Tell me the truth!"

She blinked in shock. She had seen this side of Alistair before, but it was incredibly rare and never directed toward her. An image flashed in her mind: the look on his face when he beheaded Loghain. Had she truly earned such hatred? She struggled for freedom from his grip, but he had always had the upper hand when it came to physical strength. She was stubborn, though, continuing to struggle and frustrating herself even further. Finally, exasperated, she yelled at him, "I don't need her! I need her son!"

Alistair stared at her, almost unable to believe what he'd heard, not wanting to believe it. "We have an agreement. A promise! We _promised_ each other that that witch and her child would never enter our lives again."

Rhyan breathed heavily from exhaustion. "So then we resign that no child should enter our lives at all?" The honest despair in her voice nearly broke Alistair's heart. "I'm not happy about any of this either, but it's our last chance. I will not let it pass by without at least trying."

He released her wrists and stepped back. "What do you need with the child?"

Rhyan bit her lip. She had already told him the most difficult part, the part she had been trying to shield him from; surely revealing the rest of her plan couldn't hurt. "On my journey I learned about a theory that says it may be possible to reverse the Joining, essentially turning a Grey Warden back into a normal person again."

"An Unjoining?"

"I've been referring to it as The Severing. The only problem is…" She paced the armory as Alistair watched her cautiously. "During a Joining recruits drink the blood of an Archdemon. In order for a Severing to work, it requires the blood of an untainted old god."

Alistair scrunched his face. "And where exactly are we supposed to… Oh." It all finally clicked in his mind and his expression became tortured.

Rhyan nodded. "If what Morrigan told us is true, then her son possesses the soul of the old god Urthemiel. It's the best chance we have."

Alistair was silent for a while, considering the consequences of all of this. "So, what's your plan? You're going to hunt down Morrigan and say, 'Hey, remember that time ten years ago when you betrayed me? Well, as payback for that I'm going to take some of your son's blood.' "

"I hadn't figured out what to say yet," Rhyan spoke quietly.

The king watched his wife, who stared at the floor in thought. Eventually, he walked across the room to where a shiny chestplate sat on a shelf. After examining it closely he held it under his arm and began to search among a multitude of helmets.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going with you."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Rhyan crossed the room and took the helmet he was examining out of his hand. "You have to stay here."

His resolve was clearly set. "I'm not letting you run off again for Maker only knows how long! Plus I don't trust Morrigan. I'm coming with you and I'm going to make sure we both return."

She almost wanted to smile at his protectiveness, but couldn't just give in to this idea. "And what about your responsibilities? Your country?"

Alistair huffed. He hated when other people felt the need to remind him of his responsibilities, as if they didn't weigh him down every day and he was somehow blissfully unaware of them. But she had a point; he couldn't leave his throne empty. "Teagan! He's still in Denerim. I could ask him to stay and watch over things for a while." Rhyan seemed skeptical. "We both trust him and he's a competent man."

"Fine," she let out in a tired exhale. "We'll send for Teagan and leave first thing in the morning, assuming I can find my gear."

"Ah, about that," Alistair blushed slightly. "It may be in the larder."

Rhyan raised an eyebrow. "Any why would it be in there?"

He recalled the day she returned home. Although they were both relieved to see the other alive, their last fight still rang in their heads. There was too much distance between them for him to express what her leaving had meant to him, but he immediately ordered a servant to have her weapons and armor cleaned and then hidden somewhere she would never find them. She had claimed not to have found anything on her trip and he worried she'd rest for a night or two before heading out again, but he also knew she'd never go on a journey like that without her equipment. He wasn't far off; had he not been so forceful with her now she would have left him again and never told him where she went or who she was after. Maybe she would have explained herself if she returned successful. _Maybe_.

She still stared at him curiously, waiting for an answer. He just shrugged.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Warden & The Inquisitor**

 **Chapter 6**

"Do you think I'm a naïve fool?" Rhysa could hear Cullen approach where she stood on the garrison, watching Skyhold bustle.

He leaned against the stone walls beside her. "I think you have a big heart, and you can't say no to people who ask you for help." She grunted, clearly dissatisfied with his response. "You're not just helping her, you're helping all Wardens. Even after Adamant you showed them mercy, and I think that makes you an honorable person, not a fool."

She sighed heavily. "I've had this feeling in the pit of my stomach ever since Josephine read that invitation. Something bad is going to happen. Maybe it won't be Rhyan's fault, or maybe it will. Either way, I find myself questioning every decision I make."

Cullen noticed the gates of Skyhold begin to rise and he knew what that meant. "Your instincts have yet to fail you. Don't stop trusting them now."

Rhysa also noticed the approach of their guests. "My instinct was to slap Rhyan's royal face."

The commander laughed. "Then we're all surely doomed."

She smiled sideways at him. "I suppose we should go down there." He nodded in agreement and the betrothed left the walls of the stronghold.

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Alistair fumbled under his armor. They had a squadron of soldiers accompany them to the Frostbacks but for the last trek he and his bride had been on their own. She insisted on their flexibility and stealth. While he had much experience travelling in small groups, it had been many years. Compared to his wife, who had just recently undergone a difficult journey on her own, he seemed an incompetent novice.

When the gates rose and a soldier greeted them she naturally took the lead. That was another thing he would have to accustom himself to again. At the beginning of their marriage and his reign he wasn't able to even dress himself properly and relied on her aid and instruction for almost everything. Though he was embarrassed to admit it now, back then Fereldan was being ruled by Rhyan. Over time he learned and grew more confident, and when she left he was forced to take on all of the responsibilities Rhyan had continued to take care of for him. It was difficult at first but he was surprised to find himself quite capable at ruling alone. But this wasn't court and here he knew Rhyan had the upper hand. He didn't fight her authoritative tone with the guard and accepted his place a few feet behind where she stood. It was just like old times.

Within the walls of Skyhold they were greeted by the Inquisitor and her Commander. After trite pleasantries were exchanged, Rhyan got straight to business. "Where did Morrigan spend her time?"

The Inquisitor was surprised at this brashness, but answered, "She and her son had a room outside the Great Hall, but most of the day she was in the garden."

"Then I'd like to be taken there."

The group walked to the garden area where sisters chanted and prayed and most of the visitors remained quiet and reflective. "Here," Rhysa said as they reached the gazebo. "She liked it here." Rhyan looked about intently and Rhysa huffed. "I told you she didn't leave any special clues behind. I don't know what you're expecting to find here."

The Hero smiled suspiciously. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a small stick with an orb attached. It looked almost like a miniature mage's staff. "I acquired this along my travels." She held it out and stared at the orb intently. "It's some sort of magic. I'm not sure how it works but it can find people as long as it has their blood."

"And how exactly did you acquire that?" Alistair asked, but Rhyan ignored this and began to walk toward the walls of the fortress. Eventually the group reached a door. "Where does this lead?" Rhyan asked.

"An empty room," was Cullen's response but Rhysa added, "At least, it was empty until Morrigan arrived…"

The door creaked open and inside the quartet saw a large mirror before them.

"An eluvian," Rhyan acknowledged knowingly.

"I… I didn't know she left that here," Rhysa stammered. "She showed it to me before. We even travelled through it. Could she be in there?"

Rhyan examined the small stick in her hand. "Yes, she certainly is." She turned to her relative. "Open it," she demanded.

Rhysa was taken aback. "What? You think I can open _that_? Morrigan controlled it when we went to… wherever exactly it leads. I don't know anything about this sort of magic. I'm not even a mage!"

The Queen grabbed the Inquisitor's left hand and held it up. " _This_ is all the magic we need!"

The hand began to crackle and glow green, as if responding to its call. Rhysa's eyes widened. It hadn't done that since it was close to a fade rift. Honestly, she had hoped since the breach was closed and Corypheus dead she no longer possessed these strange abilities. "I can't!" she argued and when Rhyan released her hand she held it tenderly with the other one.

"Unless you know a mage with this specific set of knowledge," she turned toward the group and they each realized they didn't. "Then your skills are of great use to us. The mark can open rifts into the fade, yes? Why can't it open a portal into whatever realm the eluvians lead into?"

"Because I can't!" Rhysa argued yet again.

" _You_ can't because you refuse to try. But I believe _it_ can do much more than you imagine."

Rhysa's hand felt like it was on fire. She hadn't had this sensation in quite a while and she didn't enjoy it reemerging. She quickly grew angry. "I can't wield unknown magic at your will! The eluvian will not open. Find another way to find your witch!" With that, she turned and left the room, stomping off toward some unknown corner of Skyhold.

Rhyan hung her head and sighed. "If she would only _try_ …"

"Perhaps we all just need a rest?" Cullen offered diplomatically. "I can show you to your room if you like."

The royals complied and the eluvian was left alone yet again.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Warden & The Inquisitor**

 **Chapter 7**

Rhysa sat against the hard wall as she gazed down at her hand. It had stopped glowing, but she still felt something rushing through her veins. She clenched it into a fist. Why did Rhyan have to bring this up? Her hand had been like every other hand until the Hero showed up, and at the mention of its power, it came to life. She hated that green glow, the rush of energy it sent through her body. The only way she had ever put up with it was the knowledge that it offered some greater good. But the sky was calm now. There was no Breach to close, only Rhyan's demons to futilely chase, and that she would not give up her normality for.

Cole sat nearby. Despite her efforts to humanize him, many at Skyhold were still distrustful of the boy and that's exactly why she came to the third floor of the tavern. She knew it would just be her and Cole and no one would come to bother them. He was strange, but she had grown used to it. He could even be comforting at times. She watched him draw on a sketchpad rapidly but couldn't even fathom what. She looked at back her hand.

"It frightens you," Cole spoke suddenly, continuing to move his pencil across the paper determinedly.

"It angers me," Rhysa corrected, gritting her teeth.

"Like a blanket, anger covers, it protects." He stopped drawing and stared at her. "It frightens you." Rhysa didn't respond and he returned to his art, musing to himself, "Crackle, kindle, claim. It is like fire, burning and growing. It will consume me."

She shifted so that Cole was no longer in her line of vision and slowly stretched her fingers. The strange feeling was going away. It always went away eventually, but then it would always come back. She slammed her hand against the wooden floor. It hadn't gone away for good the last time like she'd hoped. It would _always_ come back.

She looked up and Cole stood in front of her, his eyes wide and soft. "It's not such a bad thing," he said quietly, but Rhysa was in no mood to hear it. She stood and left the tavern briskly.

Cullen was already lying in her bed when she got to her quarters. She wasn't sure why she was surprised, he spent most nights there. His room did have a hole in the ceiling, after all. She began to undress and hoped he was asleep but then he spoke, "The Theirins want to meet with you in the morning."

She sighed. "If I must." As she removed her pants she realized there was something crunching in them and pulled a folded piece of paper out of her pocket. She examined it and smiled. When had he put that in there?

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"If she would just accept what has happened to her…" Rhyan paced the room she and Alistair had been offered. It was the best room in Skyhold, aside from the Inquisitor's, but still paled in comparison to royalty's greeting anywhere else.

From the bed Alistair, attempted to clean his own armor, though his wife's constant comments clearly distracted him. "Perhaps she physically cannot open the eluvian," he offered innocently, wiping desperately at a mark on his breastplate that looked more like lunch than blood.

"She _can_. I know she can. The power she wields is beyond any this realm has ever seen. How could she not be able to open something so primitive it was made by ancient elves?" Rhyan huffed and heaved as she walked the span of the room. "She just doesn't want to do it because _I'm_ the one who's asking."

"Then get someone else to ask," the king remarked, unthinkingly as the spot on his armor finally became undone.

She stopped short at this revelation. "Yes, I'm certain there's someone here she will listen to…"

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Leliana emerged from her quarters early in the morning awake and rested. She stared down at the movements of Skyhold and knowingly, mentally marked all of their progressions. She wondered what the day would bring to her. One of the things she enjoyed most about being Spymaster was the intrigue of every letter, the allure of every question.

However, one thing she didn't expect was the Queen's presence at her side as she crossed the garrison between Cullen's office and her own tower. Rhyan approached her more silently than she'd like to admit, but nonetheless they greeted each other as friends.

"Rhyan!" the Spymaster caught her breath for a moment. "Was there something you needed, my dear?"

The Hero smiled at such a familiar address. It had been much too long since she had been called 'dear' and she loved Leliana even more for using the word. "I was hoping you could help me," she began, never one to avoid a topic she wished to discuss. "Your Inquisitor seems reluctant of her gift. If she cannot wield it, she will surely succumb to it."

Leliana listened intently. She nodded along, but always considered the woman she had met many months ago. Rhysa had never liked the anchor, but she had also never proven herself afraid to wield such power. While she recognized what Rhyan was trying to do in using the advisor against her leader, Leliana still resolved herself to speak with the Inquisitor about her Maker-given gifts and how she should use them. This was, after all, for the Grey Wardens… and for Rhyan.


	8. Chapter 8

**The Warden & The Inquisitor**

 **Chapter 8**

Rhysa sat in a corner of the kitchen, nibbling on a piece of cheese. There was a large set of wooden shelves to her right, protecting her from unwanted gazes. She needed to be alone right now; she needed to calm down. As good of a spymaster as Leliana was, her intentions earlier that morning had been as easy to read as one of Varric's books. Rhysa knew Rhyan had sent the former bard to convince her to open to Eluvian. She wasn't sure who she was angrier at: Rhyan for sending Leliana, or Leliana for allowing herself to be Rhyan's spokeswoman.

"The stable needs more apples." The Inquisitor heard the familiar voice from her hidden corner and peeked around the shelves to see Blackwall speaking to the chef. "Thom?" she spoke quietly and he searched the room for the source of his name until finding her sitting alone in a corner next to a shelf of cheese.

"You called?" he asked, standing before her and crossing his arms.

She hadn't thought of what to say. Despite the lies he had revealed to her, Blackwall remained one of her most loyal allies, and ultimately she trusted him. She stood from her hiding place and spoke candidly, "What do you think of the Calling?"

His stance remained guarded. "It is inevitable."

She sighed at this useless information. "But if the Wardens were presented with something… a cure to the Calling, would they take it?"

Blackwall considered this a moment before sighing and dropping his arms, resigning to his response. "A warden is nothing but a promise," he said. "I'm sure none of them wish to die before their time. If they could keep their promise and live, I don't see why they wouldn't."

Rhysa nodded as her thoughts fluttered around her head. "Thank you, Blackwall. You've helped me more than you know." She sat back down and leaned against the stone wall, reaching to grab another cut of cheese.

Blackwall lingered, watching her thoughtfully. "It is the right thing to do," he eventually stated and left her alone with the morning bustle of the kitchen.

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Alistair woke in the morning by himself, but he was hardly surprised. Rhyan had a lot of meddling to do in Skyhold, he was just happy she wasn't trying to make him keep up. He dressed lazily and walked outside. He was unfamiliar with the fortress but had a knack for finding food wherever he went. Opening a wooden door near the stables he found himself in the kitchen and smiled, until the Inquisitor made her presence apparent. "Your highness?" she asked, clearly assuming she could not avoid him in such a small space.

Alistair's face turned toward her, flushed and red. "Inquisitor," he spoke, "I didn't know you would be here."

Rhysa chuckled to herself, knowing, once again, the king had found her in hiding. "Were you looking for Rhyan?" she asked innocently, though the man was clearly searching for solitude before his wife. She smiled when he didn't answer and decided he was trustworthy enough to direct her questions. "Do you believe the Wardens really want a cure?"

He seemed taken aback by this but answered, "Some of them do."

"But what about most of them?" she asked incredulously. "Do they want it?"

Alistair sighed. "I can't claim I've taken a poll myself," he said honestly. "But I know that no one wants to die before their time, no matter how many Darkspawn they've killed."

"If Rhyan did find a cure, would you take it?"

Alistair sighed again, but responded quickly, "Yes. Before I thought of my country or anything else, I would cure whatever in my blood makes me a Grey Warden. Unless, of course, there was a Blight."

Rhysa nodded, understandingly, though she did not fully understand. She was no Grey Warden, after all, and she didn't wish to be one. But she pretended to know what the Calling meant to an order such as theirs, and the decision was made…

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 _Earlier that day…._

Rhyan approached the stables before the rest of Skyhold had awakened, and before searching out Leliana. "Blackwall?" she used to announce her presence and the man quickly turned to face her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to catch you by surprise, but I was hoping to have a word?" The man nodded and Rhyan approached close enough that no other could overhear them. "I've heard many things about you, including that you're both a Grey Warden and not."

Blackwall's eyes darkened as he considered how to respond to this. "Things have happened that I'm not particularly proud of, but the Inquisitor has accepted me as an ally nonetheless."

Rhyan smiled. "But you're devoted to the Warden's cause, are you not?" Blackwall's nod was swift and certain. "I'm not sure if you've heard but I've been searching for a cure to the taint in the Wardens' blood. It would save countless lives from a premature death."

Blackwell assessed her silently. "What of the Darkspawn? Would they retain their ability to fight them?"

Rhyan kept eye contact but spoke softer. "As much ability as anyone else has. You, of all people, know how much one who hasn't undergone the Joining can accomplish."

Blackwall grunted. "But with Wardens…"

"I'm not trying to rid Thedas of every last Grey Warden! I just want a way to help those who have done their service and want to lead a normal life. Is that truly too much to ask?"

The stable was silent for a while. "In war, victory." Rhyan almost shuddered as Blackwall began to recite the oath she had heard so many times before. "In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice." A tinge of shame nipped at her at the last line. She hadn't allowed to Archdemon to kill her as it should have, and now here she was, desperately seeking a way to be freed from the responsibility she had accepted 10 years earlier. She was a disgrace to the Wardens and it shamed her, but she convinced herself that it was all the more reason to find this cure and take it. "I know what I'm doing goes against what the Wardens stand for, but I still don't believe it to be wrong. Please, Blackwall or Thom Ranier or whatever you wish to be called, I need the Inquisitor's help."

Black turned to the wooden griffon he had carved. He had had the luxury of living the life of a Warden without any of the drawbacks and he could only imagine what 10 years with the taint in your blood felt like. "If the Inquisitor asks me my opinion, I will give it to her honestly. That's all I can promise."

Rhyan released the breath she had been holding. "I'm certain that will be enough."


	9. Chapter 9

**The Warden & The Inquisitor**

 **Chapter 9**

Cullen raced through Skyhold as soon as he got the message. He hadn't even known the Eluvian was in that dilapidated room until the day before, but suddenly the entirety of the Inquisiton's attention was directed at the ancient mirror. People milled about making the Chantry sisters and herbalists who normally spent their day in the peaceful gardens uneasy. The door was open and as he approached and Cullen could see Alistair ensuring his metal boots were fastened securely. The king looked up at the commander when he appeared in the doorway and offered him a half smile, but Cullen's attention was quickly turned to the others in the room.

Rhyan stood alone, one blade on her back and a second one she held horizontally in front of her face, inspecting its quality. Rhysa was in the corner wearing her long leather coat, with a bow strapped to her, looking as she always did before heading out on some adventure. "So it's true," he said, drawing near to her and clearly pulling her from some internal monologue. "You're going to open to Eluvian?"

"I'm going to try," she responded simply. He eyed her weapon anxiously. "Stop worrying," she insisted.

"Never."

"Why don't you just come with us then?" Both heads snapped toward Rhyan as soon as the words left her mouth. She continued to examine her sword for a while until she realized the reaction her suggestion brought. "We've enough supplies for a party of four," she defended. "And surely Cullen has the experience worthy of deserving the title of Commander of the Inquisition. Besides," she turned back to her weapon and gently stroked the blade with her free hand, "I'm sure Rhysa would prefer having you around to talk with rather than listening to Alistair and I bicker."

Rhysa looked up at the man hesitantly. "Do you want to?"

"I suppose I could put Rylen in charge for a short time…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "It _would_ be nice to ensure your safety myself."

Rhysa scoffed. "I was just thinking the opposite." At his questioning glare she elaborated, "I guess I've always kind of liked that you didn't go out on missions with me. I knew you were safe here, in Skyhold."

"I'm a big boy, you know." He seemed to quickly sort a few stray thoughts in his mind before nodding assuredly. "I will travel with you into the Eluvian. Maker knows I'm not fond of magic…" He glanced toward the mirror and then finished the thought in a low voice, "but I am fond of you."

Rhysa couldn't help but blush and Alistair groaned from his nearby seat. "Are we leaving soon?"

"As soon as the commander is ready," Rhysa smiled, accepting Cullen's part in this latest adventure.

Cullen looked down at himself. He was wearing his usual armor and his sword was already sheathed at his hip. He nodded at the Inquisitor, who gulped in response, knowing what she had to do next. She approached the Eluvian and Rhyan and Alistair immediately lined themselves up behind her, watching intently. Rhysa felt her hand begin to tingle, and dreaded the white hot pain that she knew it would evolve into once she attempted to utilize such power. But she couldn't back down now and lifted the hand between her body and the Eluvian. Green light sparked and crackled, but nothing more happened.

"Think about Morrigan," Rhyan offered. "Anything about her: her look, her smell, her son…" Alistair tensed, but his wife continued. "Remember the last time you went through the Eluvian. The sounds, the feeling…"

Rhysa closed her eyes and light stretched from her hand into the mirror, illuminating it and causing magical energy to surge through the small room. Cullen shuddered, Rhyan grimaced, and the Eluvian ultimately opened. The Inquisitor raised her eyes to witness the accomplishment of the anchor momentarily before thrusting herself through the portal.

The world beyond was dismal and grey, just as she remembered. She stumbled forward, briefly forgetting why she had put her body through the stress of such a transition, until the rest of her group emerged, each suffering just as much as she. Rhyan, of course, recovered the fasted and pulled out her small magical device, the origins of which she still hadn't revealed. The Warden approached every Eluvian standing in the desolate land, searching for the elusive witch, while the rest of them panted and gained their bearings.

Alistair stretched and looked about. "Are we in the fade?"

"Not quite," Rhysa responded, remembering what Morrigan had explained to her. "But we're very close."

"I don't even want to consider what that means," the king added, following his wife, who remained a few Eluvians down.

Cullen stood behind Rhysa and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You've already done more than anyone could ask," he whispered in her ear.

She appreciated the sentiment, but knew it wasn't true. "Rhyan expects much more," she replied, watching the royal couple exploring the rows of mirrors. "I opened one Eluvian already, so they'll expect me to open the next. Then I have to get them back once all of this nonsense with Morrigan is over." She exhaled heavily and Cullen wrapped his arms around her in protection.

"And you shall. You'll accomplish this just as you have every other task laid before you." He kissed her cheek briefly. "And it will be for the good of so many."

Rhysa almost relaxed into his hold before Rhyan called out, "Here!" The Warden jumped before a mirror, her husband looking on fixedly. "Morrigan is beyond this Eluvian. Open it!"

Rhysa sighed and released herself from Cullen's grip. "And what exactly lies beyond this mirror?"

Rhyan looked at the Inquisitor carefully. "There's only one way to know."

Rhysa accepted that the only way out of this commitment was through, and raised her hand toward the mirror. The same surge passed through them all as the second portal opened.


	10. Chapter 10

**The Warden & The Inquisitor**

 **Chapter 10**

It was so similar to the Fade Rhysa wasn't certain if they had inadvertently entered it or not. Everything seemed transient and unknown, but Rhyan took the lead consciously. Rhysa clenched her jaw. She had been the only one of the group to enter the Fade physically, had she not? Why did Rhyan always assume she was in charge? Rhysa followed, nonetheless, silently, and watched her relative navigate through the mysterious landscape, only angered further by how competently she did so.

Eventually they fell upon enemies, as they had expected. Giant spiders, in great numbers, fell upon them, and the group fought valiantly as a whole. Cullen struck a deadly blow to the one he was fighting before catching, in the corner of his eye, Rhysa's struggle. He raced to her side and struck the beast down, but Rhysa spoke out in anger, "Why did you do that?"

"You were in danger," he answered, confused by the question.

Rhysa seemed prepared to respond but a spider larger than the combined force of all they had defeated dropped from the ceiling and the couple was captured in silence. Its legs tingled and its many eyes darted about. Alistair suddenly appeared and took out a few of the hundreds of eyes the beast possessed. Rhysa wondered what he thought he had accomplished, for the beast surely had enough to continue to watch them all intently, but when the arachnid ran for the king and found itself struck down from behind by his rogue wife, she learned the extent of their plan. Alistair was the distraction and Rhyan the blade of furor. They performed such a feat so expertly she considered how many times they must have done this before.

Rhyan wiped her brow and drew her blade from the enlarged insect. "There may be more further on. If you feel the need, we could make camp here."

Rhysa didn't want to agree, but she felt herself nodding along, and suddenly the entire group had agreed to stay there that night. Tents were stamped into the ground quickly and a fire was built. A meal was slowly heated over the fire, as Cullen and the Inquisitor leaned into each other, clearly taking part in a private conversation. But the crackle of the fire offered little privacy and Rhyan couldn't help but overhear.

"You didn't need to…"

"You couldn't see…"

"Yes, I could! Don't assume…."

"I wasn't trying to!"

Suddenly, the commander stood and exited the conversation, finding a seat by the fire next to Rhyan. Rhysa huffed away a few yards in order to find the solitude needed to calm down. Rhyan stoked the fire, but couldn't help looking sideways at the commander. "I gathered from before that you two don't travel in each other's company often, but was that truly the first time you've ever fought together?"

Cullen rubbed his face. "Yes, it was, and we're clearly ill suited for it. You and Alistair on the other hand… the two of you were so _in tune."_

Rhyan let out a light chuckle. "Yes, well we've had plenty of time to get it right." She looked at her husband who sat across the fire, eating the brown mush that posed as their meal. Feeling her eyes on him, he looked up and quirked an eyebrow. Rhyan blushed, realizing she had been caught staring. "Do you like the food?" was all she could come up with to cover her embarrassment.

He lifted the spoon before his face, letting the goop drop back into the bowl. "It's horrible." He looked down at the sorry excuse for food and then peered up with a teasing smile tugging at his lips. "Did you make it?"

Rhyan let her head fall into her hands but couldn't stop the smile that crossed her face. "I tried. At least I'm not as bad as Oghren."

Alistair guffawed, almost spilling his dinner. "Yes, I suppose I should be thankful for that."

"Do you remember that time he made dinner and then we all wound up running into each other in the forest for a little bit of…."

"Digestive relief?" he finished.

Cullen noticed Rhysa had moved in closer. She crossed her arms and stared at the dirt intently, and he decided enough time had passed for them to be able to speak once again. The royals didn't notice him leave their company, though, as they both continued to laugh at their private memories.

"What about that time," Alistair began, moving to sit in the empty seat beside his wife, "when we challenged Oghren to a drinking game?"

Rhyan shook in laughter. "Sten didn't want to play until he realized the rest of us were positively hopeless."

Alistair clutched his chest. "He wound up in a chorus line with us, singing 'Good Ol' Mefarath' at the top of our lungs." She bent over, leaning into her husband's chest as they both chortled. He put his hand on her back and realized it was the closest they had been in a long time. As the laughter slowly subsided he suddenly noted that it had been he and Rhyan returning to the battlefield that forced him to recall just how harmonious the two of them were. He silently remarked how wrong the Chantry sisters who instructed him as a child had been. Fighting really did solve everything.


	11. Chapter 11

**The Warden & The Inquisitor**

 **Chapter 11**

 **AN: Thank you to all who have reviewed! Especially WardenMahariel who pointed out my mistake. It has been fixed.**

There wasn't exactly a path in wherever they were, but the four of them continued to walk forward diligently. Rhyan was in the forefront, holding the small magical device before her and directing the group's movements. Rhysa knew this was only practical, but she couldn't help but notice that even among this group of world leaders Rhyan had somehow managed to put herself in charge. Her fists tightened, but Alistair eased the tension when we commented lightheartedly, "So… what's with the names?"

Rhysa turned to look at him as he walked on her right. "What do you mean?"

"I can't be the only one who's noticed. You're names are unusually similar. Seeing as how you're related and such… There must be an explanation, right?"

"My father named us both," Rhyan spoke without looking at the people behind her.

Rhysa nodded, remembering the story her 'Uncle Bryce' had insisted on telling every time she met him at a family function and he had a few glasses of wine in him. "I was the youngest of six children. By the time they got to me my parents had run out of ideas and outsourced the duty of naming me to the Couslands."

Rhyan paused, examining the device intently before her, moving slightly to the left, and continuing the conversation, "I remember the day he got the letter that you were born. He was so happy. I think I was six or seven at the time. He scooped me up into his arms and told me that he would name you Rhysa." Rhysa rolled her eyes as she followed her second cousin. "He said Rhysa was the name he had picked out long ago in case he and my mother ever had another daughter… It would have been the name of my sister."

The Inquisitor looked at the back of Rhyan's head. She had never heard that part of the story. She felt almost guilty for the jealous thoughts that crossed her mind earlier as memories of Bryce Cousland flooded through her. He was a good man, and he adored his daughter as well as his cousin Reynold Trevelyan - Rhysa's father. She looked for some words to comfort the woman, but found none. "We should rest soon," was all that came out of her.

Rhyan shook her head. "We've a long way to go. We need to press onward."

Rhysa huffed and forgot her previous guilt. "And who put you in charge? Do you want to rest?" She pointed at Cullen, who seemed shocked. "And you?" She turned and pointed at Alistair. The king was uncertain, but Rhysa continued nonetheless. "You're not the only voice in this group!"

Rhyan stopped abruptly and turned around to face the Inquisitor. "Then why did you follow me so willingly?"

Rhysa inhaled deeply to ready a retort that would surely have sent the Queen into a rage, but Cullen risked his own life to step between the women. "Look there's a clearing just down there." He motioned toward the horizon. "Perhaps we can march a little longer and then rest."

"Fine," the cousins said in unintentional unison and the group moved forward.

Camp was made swiftly and silently as tension hung heavy in the air. Rhyan went to bed early, Rhysa and Cullen whispered to one another sweetly, and Alistair stared blankly into the mysterious darkness that surrounded them. The king was deep in thought until a crackle of the fire drew him back to the present and he yawned and excused himself. He expected to find his wife asleep by now, or at least lying in the dark, but she was sitting up, cradling a small wrapped package in her hands. "What's that?" he asked, climbing into bed beside her.

She stared down and bit her lip, considering what to say. Alistair took this as a sign of yet another secret she was keeping. "Fine," he added tersely and turned away.

She grabbed his shoulder, a bit harder than she had intended, and pulled him back to face her. "It's a present," she explained, "for you." She held out the package, which he accepted tentatively.

"What is it?"

"Open it," she insisted, nudging him slightly and clearly holding back a smile.

He removed the paper that covered whatever object Rhyan wished to conceal. Eventually, he held in his hands a small figurine of a Golem. It was dark grey and marvelous. He glided his thumb over it and remarked, "I don't have this one."

"That's why I got it for you," she half-heartedly laughed.

He continued to examine every detail of the figure in his hands. "Where did you get this?"

Rhyan recalled, "It was a small town in the Anderfels. I asked the proprietor where he got it, and he said it'd been sitting in his shop for years."

"But why did you buy it?"

Rhyan sighed, but laughed quietly. "Because you didn't have that one?"

Alistair resisted a laugh, and looked at her seriously. "Why?"

Rhyan stopped her short giggles and averted her gaze. This was her husband, but there was a sense of doubt surrounding admitting anything to him. She scratched her arm, adjusted her shirt, and finally answered, "I don't know. I suppose I knew you should have it… I saw it and it made me think of you."

He turned the figurine over in his hands, and recalled that his collection had all started when he discovered a replica of the Golem Eamon had bought for him as a child in the Wonders of Thedas. Since then, Rhyan had taken every opportunity to chastise her husband for playing with dolls, but most of the figures in his immaculate collection had been found due to her diligent search of the marketplace. Now, here she was presenting him with yet another gift. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but what made you think of me all the way out there?"

Rhyan raised her head to look him straight in the eyes. There was such sadness in the dark blue irises that met his that he instinctively wanted to avert his gaze, but it remained steadfastly on hers. "I thought of you every day I was away," she said quietly and honestly to him. " _Every single day."_

He wished he could meet those beautiful eyes but his own returned to the gift in hand. It was thoughtful but, like so much related to Rhyan, doubt lingered in his heart. He mustered the strength to return her gaze and spoke in his bravest voice, "We need to talk… about everything."


	12. Chapter 12

**The Warden & The Inquisitor**

 **Chapter 12**

Rhysa moved in closer to Cullen. He'd seemed distant since their last encounter with a foe, and she wanted to ease his tension. She inhaled to begin, but he had somehow beaten her to speaking.

"I'm getting old," he began, leaning against the rock they each sat in front of comfortably.

She paused a moment. Yes, Cullen was older than her, but no older than Elissa and Alistair, and she never once considered his age in any decision she made. "What are you talking about?"

He sighed. "I used to be able to go on campaigns for months. We would traverse countries if we had to, and I was fine. Now…" He caressed a sore muscle on his right tricep. "…now, it's all so different."

Rhysa bit her lip, considering what to say. While Cullen may have been the same age as the monarchs, neither of them suffered the results of recovering from lyrium addiction. She knew she couldn't word her feelings in such a way, though, and kissed his cheek tenderly. "You are the strongest, most loyal, greatest man I have ever known."

He caressed her soft cheek in response and his amber eyes softened. "You think too much of me."

Their eyes met tenderly and Rhysa was about to word a response, but was interrupted by shouts emanating from their other two companions' tent.

"You never cared…"

"You weren't even here…"

The Inquisitor and her Commander tried to wait until the audible fighting subsided to continue their moment, but it never died down and Rhysa found herself sitting alone by the fire while Cullen paced awkwardly, unable to do anything but overhear her relative's marital troubles. They fought about politics, the running of the palace, and even clothing. But one thing their arguments all seemed to circle around was something Rhysa felt guilty at having never noticed: the king and queen were childless.

"All I wanted was…"

"…I wanted everything too. But we were children then…"

"You didn't even try…"

"Of course I did! But I knew when to accept reality. I warned you when we got married, but you never believed…"

"You said it was improbable, not impossible. Was I so wrong to hold out hope?"

"And when nothing happened, what did you do then? Hide! I was the one left alone while you receded into your depression. Alone in a position I never asked for! And when you finally decided to emerge with this great new fantasy about some magical way for us to have children I was just supposed to go along with it? One of us had to be realistic."

"You gave up. There was a time you would have followed me into darkest Thaig of the Deep Roads…"

"Where am I now?"

"You gave up! You told me to stop trying! Somewhere along the line you decided it wasn't worth…"

"IT'S BEEN TEN YEARS!"

The camp grew quiet. The entirety of the void they were wandering through seemed to pause at the reverb of the king's voice. But nowhere was the weight of his words heavier than in that tent, where Rhyan and Alistair stared at each other through the haze of memories and emotion.

"It's been ten years," he whispered, lowering his head and running his hands through his blonde hair. "I know how hard it's been on you, but I don't think you ever considered what it meant for me. I could care less about an heir or whatever the rest of the nobility wants to say. It was every time we realized yet again that it hadn't happened for us… the look on your face… I couldn't bear it anymore." He looked up at Rhyan, who seemed for the first time in so long to be on the verge of tears. "I asked you to stop trying. I didn't give up I just… I didn't think I could handle another failure."

The second wave of silence felt just as heavy as before. Rhyan could feel her heart beating in her ears and focused on her breathing to retain some semblance of composure. She looked at her hands, the dirt beneath her feet, the walls of the tent, anywhere that wasn't Alistair's pained expression. Eventually she took in breath so deep it seemed to almost pain her and spoke. "I'm sorry I left. I should have stayed by your side like I promised when I made you king. I should have… I should have at least told you I was leaving."

"I'm sorry I didn't chase after you." He eyes shifted from distressed to determined. "I would still follow you into the darkest Thaig of the Deep Roads."

"I hope you won't have to." She inhaled heavily again. "If this doesn't work, I'll stop chasing legends and fantasies. I'll stay by your side in court." Half of her mouth curled into a smile. "And we won't return to the Deep Roads until we absolutely have to."

Rhysa hadn't been able to hear much after Alistair's outburst, and settled into the uneasiness left outside the tent. Eventually, Cullen returned to her side. "I hope we find Morrigan soon," he said, staring at the red flames before them.

Rhysa nodded, her mind still considering the conversation taking place behind her. "Getting out of this place will do us all some good."


	13. Chapter 13

**The Warden & The Inquisitor**

 **Chapter 13**

They naturally fell into their usual formation while travelling. Rhyan walked in the front, leading them with the small stick that somehow knew where Morrigan was, behind her was Rhysa and Alistair, and Cullen brought up the rear. They were mostly silent, eager to cover as much distance as possible and get to their destination, which is why Rhysa was shocked when Rhyan broke their unspoken tradition and turned around to hand over the magical device.

"What?" Rhysa babbled, while grasping the stick that had been forced into her hand.

"You lead for a while," was the most Rhyan would explain.

Rhysa couldn't form any more words and allowed Rhyan to silently fall into step behind her. She and Alistair eventually slowed their pace so much that they walked behind Cullen as well, who then stepped forward to stand next to Rhysa and sent her a silent questioning look. The Inquisitor shrugged in response and continued examining the device. She hadn't realized before how it worked. It didn't point you where to go but instead pulled you along. It was a strange sensation and she suddenly grew nervous at the thought that they were being led by unknown magic.

Rhyan bit her lip for a long time as she walked next to Alistair before finally speaking to him. "So… no more secrets, right?"

He looked down at her, one eyebrow raised suspiciously. "Riiiight…"

"There's something I have to tell you." She raised her voice. "Actually, maybe everyone should hear it." Rhysa and Cullen glanced back and then shared a look of dread. "This… isn't the first time I've tracked Morrigan down since the Blight." She immediately held up a hand to stop the response she knew was on her husband's lips. "I know, I know; I should have told you. I just… needed answers. And you get all stiff and grumpy whenever Morrigan's name is brought up."

He huffed and rolled his shoulders back, frustrated at how accurate she was. "Did you get the answers you wanted?"

"Of course not, it's Morrigan. Every vague passive-aggressive word out of her mouth just made me angrier."

"Really?" Alistair mocked. "That sounds so unlike her…"

"Why exactly did you decide to tell us this?" Rhysa asked, fearing there was more to this story.

Rhyan cleared her throat. "Well... there was a lot of _unfinished business_ left between us after the Blight ended, and like I said she was being so infuriating. I…" Her face turned a deep pink. "I… sort of… _stabbed her_."

The group fell silent yet again and their steps slowed to almost a halt. Rhyan suffered, waiting for their response to her actions. The only one that came was from Alistair. It was quiet at first, but gained momentum quickly. He was laughing. Rhyan watched him struggle to breath and wipe tears from his eyes and she quickly joined in. Rhysa and Cullen stopped and stared at the pair, utterly horrified.

"Maker," Alistair began when he could find the breath. "You must think we're horrible people. It's not funny." He chuckled once more. "It's just… I've wanted to skewer Morrigan so many times, and she just went out and did it…"

"I didn't even know she was still alive until I heard she'd helped the Inquisition," Rhyan added, and Alistair reverted into another fit of laughter.

"As hilarious as this is," Rhysa spoke loudly. "We're hunting down a woman you honestly believed you'd killed to ask her for a favor?"

Rhyan quieted down, but continued to smile. "Let me handle Morrigan. If she wants revenge it'll be on me, not any of you. But I felt you should probably be aware that our meeting might not go… smoothly."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A _demonster_. That's what Rhysa decided to call the enormous creature before her. It was a horrifying cross between the demons she'd met in the Fade and a monster from her childhood nightmares. It swiped a large claw in a frontal arc. Rhyan managed to evade it, but Cullen was knocked back. Rhysa sank one of her arrows deep into its thick throat, Alistair scaled its back to pierce the nape of its neck, and the beast finally fell.

It was while they caught their breath and wiped off their sweat that Rhysa noticed Cullen wasn't getting up. She rushed to his side and laboriously rolled him onto his back to find a deep gash on his forehead with blood gushing out. A red-stained nearby rock had clearly caught his fall. "Cullen!" she called helplessly, leaning in to find that his breathing was very shallow. Alistair gently nudged her aside as he began to tend to the Commander's wound while Rhyan watched from close by. Rhysa could feel herself trembling and when she realized the blood wasn't stopping despite Alistair's best efforts she felt a knot of pain well up inside of her. She shut her eyes, hot tears fighting to break through, but Rhysa never allowed herself to cry. She didn't get sad and bleary-eyed – she got angry. Sadness erupts and spills all over the place, but anger can be focused.

"This is your fault!" she said, standing and pointing at Rhyan. "If you hadn't insisted on his coming with us…"

"Insisted?" Rhyan crossed her arms defensively.

"You didn't care what happened to him; you just wanted another sword to fight your way to Morrigan! That's what you do. You use people until they're all used up!"

"You need to calm down," Alistair coolly advised, but Rhysa wouldn't hear it.

"Why are you defending her?" She turned her rage toward him. "You're the worst of her victims! I don't know what she told you but anyone can see she only made you king to grab power for herself."

"That's enough!" Rhyan yelled, grabbing her shoulder and forcing the Inquisitor to face her once more.

"What have we here?" Their altercation was cut short by a cold, detached voice.

"Morrgian," Alistair growled upon recognizing it.

"Pretty little Alistair," the Witch of the Wilds said, her gaze falling on the Warden for the first time in ten years. "Still frightened of swooping, are we?"

"Morrigan?" Rhyan attempted to call her attention over, but Morrigan only casually glanced in her direction, clearly making a point of ignoring the other Warden from her past.

"I would tell you that whatever brought you here was ill-advised and you should turn back now, but I can see that your friend is hurt." She stared at the ground and shook her head briefly before transforming into a large brown bear. She used the beast's immense strength to lift Cullen and carry him away, the rest of the party cautiously following behind.


	14. Chapter 14

**The Warden & The Inquisitor**

 **Chapter 14**

They followed the Bear-Morrigan to a shack that looked like it had been hastily built and could be taken down even quicker in case the owner wanted to move on and fast. A boy sat in the yard, drawing pictures in the dirt with a stick. Morrigan kicked open the front door and slammed it loudly behind her, making it clear to the others that they were not welcome inside. Rhysa watched the boy for a moment before approaching him.

"Kieran?" she started, squatting to his level. "Do you remember me? We met in Skyhold."

"You're the Inquisitor," he replied without looking up.

Rhysa smiled and kept her tone light. It was a good distraction from wondering what Cullen was going through inside that hut. "That's right. This is where you live?"

"Right now," he answered matter-of-factly.

Rhyan inched forward, staring at Kieran intently. Alistair stood a distance away, kicking the dirt, but he clearly struggled the keep his eyes off the boy.

"You're name is Kieran?" Rhyan asked, kneeling in the dirt to get closer. "That's a nice name. Mine is Rhyan."

The boy stopped his drawing and looked up at her curiously. "Rhyan Cousland?"

She smiled at the name that seemed like a ghost from the past. "I was, before I married Alistair over there." She gestured past her shoulder and Kieran looked over at the discontented man, whose face reddened at the boy's attention and he turned away, kicking the dirt even more vehemently.

"You're the Hero of Fereldan," Kieran said, setting his sights back on Rhyan. "Mother told me about you."

"Hopefully not everything," Rhyan half mumbled.

"She said you saved Thedas."

"Your mother helped a lot."

"She said that too."

"Kieran!" Morrigan's voice called from the hut door. She had changed back into human form. "Don't bother our guests. They'll be leaving soon." Rhysa jumped to her feet and sent the mage a forlorn look that said everything she was thinking. "He is resting," Morrigan answered. "He'll be fine."

"Can I see him?"

"'Tis for the best if you leave him be for now."

The witch turned around to reenter the shack and Rhyan swiftly ran over to her, calling out her name. Morrigan ignored this, but Rhyan wouldn't let up and managed to slip inside the door with her, constantly badgering the woman to talk.

Rhysa shuddered when the door slammed close. "Something tells me that's going to be another meeting ending in a stabbing."

"What do you mean?" Kieran looked up at her, confusion in his young eyes. "Mother and the Hero of Fereldan are friends, aren't they?"

Rhysa stuttered and founds that words eluded her. "Of course they are," Alistair said soothingly as he finally approached the boy. "But it's been many years since they've seen each other. Sometimes time apart makes people forgive each other and sometimes it just makes them angrier." He watched the hut intently. "She'll be fine," he commented, mostly to reassure himself. Kieran returned to his drawing and now that Alistair was closer he could finally make out what it was. "Is that supposed to be me?" The boy nodded and added more detail to the hair. "Why are you drawing me?"

Kieran cocked his head to the side as he examined his work. "You look familiar."

Rhysa furrowed her brow and looked over at Alistair. "I… I'm a king," he stammered. "Lots of people have seen my face. And my nose isn't that big!"

Rhysa laughed when she looked down. "I think he got you spot on."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Morrigan you have to talk to me," Rhyan pleaded.

The witch continued to mix some sort of steaming concoction at her stove. "I don't believe I do."

Rhyan huffed and placed her hands on her hips. "Can't we just put it all out there already? I stabbed you and you slept with my husband. I think we're even."

Morrigan turned around sharply. "Hardly! You agreed to my ritual with Alistair to save both your lives. You're the one that convinced him to do it! All I asked was that you leave me be; a promise that you have broken twice now!"

Rhyan lifted her arms to fold them in front her chest. She bit her lip and stared at the dirt floor for a while before speaking. "Do you think I used Alistair?"

Morrigan raised her eyebrows in surprise at this sudden shift. "That's what you came all the way here to ask?"

"No, but I need to know the answer." She looked up at the witch. "You were there – for everything. And you don't like me enough to lie to me."

Morrigan pursed her lips and contemplated how she had been pulled into a conversation with this woman, but she answered nonetheless. "Of course you used him. Just as I used both of you. It doesn't mean anything."

"I sold his dignity for my own life."

"For both your lives."

"I made him king against his wishes."

"And has that truly turned out so horribly?" Morrigan pressed her palm against her forehead. "Alistair is naïve and foolish. If he didn't have you to push him in the right direction he'd probably be a wandering drunk by now. And you," her dark eyes narrowed. "If he wasn't there to soften the blow when you hit rock bottom you'd have turned into a raging barbarian. Honestly, I've never seen two more codependent people in my life!"

She turned back to the stove and began to ladle her mixture into a small glass bottle as her words settled in on Rhyan. The queen smiled and laughed softly to herself. "You've really changed, Morrigan."

"And what makes you think that?"

"The fact that you haven't lit me on fire yet, for one thing." She motioned to Cullen who slept on the nearby cot. "The way you healed him. And your derogatory remarks about Alistair have been quite tame."

Morrigan put a stopper in the bottle and examined the liquid against the light. "A lot has happened since last we met." She deemed the liquid satisfactory and turned to look at her former companion. "I thought I knew what I was getting for my end of our deal, but in fact I received so much more. Not that that makes us even." A smile hinted at the corner of her mouth. "You did try to kill me."

Rhyan crinkled her nose. "I am a barbarian, after all."

Morrigan grew quieter. "I know why you're here."

Rhyan shifted uneasily. "How could you…?"

"If you can find information on some ancient potion, then what makes you think I haven't already? I knew what you were looking for when you left Denerim, and I knew it would eventually lead you to me. But I can't help you with that."

"I know I've done things in the past…"

Morrigan clicked her tongue in frustration. "It has nothing to do with that. Kieran… no longer possess the soul of Urthemiel. My mother saw to that."

Rhyan's heart fell into her stomach. All this way for nothing? "I… I'm sorry to hear that."

Morrigan's face was a strange mixture of distraught and uncertainy. "As was I. But I've learned that… children are more than simply vessels for Old Gods."

Rhyan quirked an eyebrow. "You really have gotten soft."

The witch turned the small bottle over in her hand. "I cannot cure the taint in your blood, but I still may be able to help you. I ask for only one thing in return: that you promise on your own life – nay, on Alistair's life – that you will never seek me out again."

Rhyan hesitated, reading Morrigan's face scrupulously. "Those seem like very generous terms, considering our past."

"It is because of our past that they are so. Our last arrangement may not have gone as either of us planned…" She sighed heavily. "But there was a time I called you friend. Perhaps we can both honor that once more before leaving each other's lives for good?"

Rhyan paused, and then nodded. "So what is this help you're offering?"

"Did you ever wonder why I was so certain one night with Alistair would conceive a child? Wardens aren't exactly the most fruitful people." She looked Rhyan up and down. "As you know."

Rhyan shrugged. "Magic?"

Holding up the bottle before her and tapping it with her nail, Morrigan explained, "Not quite. The ancient elves had a recipe for a potent fertility potion. Lucky for you, I happen to know it."

Rhyan's eyes sparkled as she watched the liquid swirl. "So I just…?" She reached out to grab it, but Morrigan pulled back slightly.

"Drink this on the eve of your coupling and it will practically guarantee you a child."

Rhyan looked from the bottle to Morrigan and then back again. A thousand questions raced through her mind. "What's the catch?"

"'Tis no different than I have said. Simply stop chasing after me." Upon seeing that Rhyan's expression remained suspicious, she continued, "You once gave me a child, now I'm giving you one." Her lips curled into a vicious smile. "And one day, when the mood strikes me, should I choose to stab you then we'll be completely even."

Rhyan narrowed her eyes. "Deal," she answered and snatched the bottle from the witch's grasp.


	15. End Part 1

**The Warden & The Inquisitor**

 **Chapter 15**

Cullen awoke a few hours later and Morrigan determined he was well enough to make the trip home. She led the group through a shortcut back to the Eluvian. Apparently Rhyan's device had been accurate, but not very efficient. The King and Queen walked closely together, whispering frantically.

"So you basically promised Morrigan she could attack you at some point in the future in exchange for a bottle of magic juice?"

"I knew you'd harp on the stabbing part," Rhyan teased. "Honestly, a few weeks ago I would have left it out. I think being so honest with you shows growth." She held her head up high with pride and Alistair couldn't help but smile.

"Not that I want to start a fight, but I have to ask… What if it doesn't work?"

Rhyan's chin dropped. "For right now can we both just believe that it will?" She looked at her husband with pleading eyes. He gave a curt nod, and then did something he hadn't done in far too long. He reached out and held her hand in his. Rhyan smiled and stared at the ground as they continued to walk together.

Rhysa was beside Cullen, her arm wrapped around his waist protectively, not that she was strong enough to support his weight or that he needed her to. She looked up at the bandage wrapped around his head.

"I'm fine," he argued, sensing her concern before even looking down at her. "It's just a cut."

"It's a gash," she corrected, but made a point of looking elsewhere. "What did Morrigan do to you exactly?"

"I don't remember." He squinted his eyes and shook his head. "I had strange dreams, though."

"Dreams? About what?"

Cullen watched Alistair. The King's hand was cupping his wife's but his eyes were on Kieran, who ran ahead of the group with his mother. "I heard people talking…" He shook his head again. "It was just a dream or a hallucination or… or something like that." He smiled at Rhysa comfortingly. "I honestly feel fine now."

She squeezed his waist a little tighter. He could argue all he wanted, but she wouldn't relax until they were back at Skyhold.

"Here we are," Morrigan announced when the ancient mirror came into view. "I am curious - how exactly did you travel through the Eluvian by yourselves?" Rhysa let go of Cullen and held up her hand, already beginning to crackle as it sensed it would be needed soon. Morrigan examined the Inquisitor with renewed interest. "Fascinating…"

Rhysa ignored this as well as Morrigan's subsequent request to examine the anchor further sometime, as she channeled the fire in her veins through her hand to open the Eluvian and take them one step closer to home.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

 _~10 months later…_

Alistair traversed the halls of his palace, carrying a wooden crate with the word 'fragile' written neatly on all sides. He shifted, nestling the box between his left arm and his torso as he reached out with his free hand to open the door before him. Inside, soft sunlight shone through gossamer drapes, lighting a room filled with soft textures and pastel colors. Rhyan turned to face her husband when he entered, nestling a tightly bundled pink infant in her arms. "What's that?" she asked upon seeing the crate.

Alistair set it down on the table. "A gift from the Inquisition." He gently stroked the soft face in his wife's arms with the back of his hand. "For the Prince of Fereldan."

"How thoughtful." Rhyan shifted the baby as he began to squirm excitedly, either at his father's touch or the mention of his title.

Alistair pulled a dagger out of some hidden place on his body and pried the crate open. Setting the lid aside he dug through seemingly endless bits of packing material before finding a hook and gingerly pulling it upward. As the object emerged, it revealed itself to be a mobile with glass griffons dangling on strings. They dazzled in the light and swung as if they were about to take flight.

"It's beautiful!" Rhyan remarked. "We must be sure to thank them as soon as possible."

Alistair set the mobile back into the crate and turned to his son. "The Inquisition isn't under our jurisdiction," he explained, running his large calloused hand through the infant's soft blonde hair. "But the Inquisitor is your… Third sister-in-law?"

"She would be his second cousin once removed," Rhyan corrected.

Alistair made a dismissive noise. "You say it like I should know that. Normal people don't know those things." He motioned for her to hand over their son, which she did gently and lovingly. Alistair carried him to the window as he continued to talk. "Either way, I'm sure we haven't seen the last of the Inquisition. And just like everybody else, they're probably chomping at the bit to meet you..." The prince yawned and Alistair smiled as his son's name rolled happily off his lips. "Duncan."

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"…Sincerely, Alistair and Rhyan Theirin." Josephine put down the letter and smiled pleasantly. "They certainly seem happy with our gift." Rhysa stood at the far end of the war room and remained silent as she stared out the window. Josephine and Leliana glanced at each other worriedly, and Cullen watched the map intently as if he was expecting it to move. "Our next piece of business," Josephine uncomfortably moved on. She sighed as her eyes rested on her ledger. "Chef Giroux has been notified of the wedding's postponement." Rhysa and Cullen remained silent and unmoved and the ambassador's heart sank. "He is on notice, however, for whenever you eventually decide to…"

"Don't bother," Cullen said crisply as he stood tall and moved to leave. "This wedding is never going to happen."

The door slammed shut behind the Commander and the other advisors flinched at the anger in the sound, but Rhysa continued to stare out at the Frostbacks. She held her left fist up to her mouth and shut her eyes tightly. She hadn't been able to list to a thing Josephine said; she couldn't even worry about Cullen's frustration. It had been many months since she brought that small group through the Eluvian and last awoke the anchor, and her thoughts were consumed by one fact: _Her hand still hurt_.

 **End Part 1**

 **AN: Yes, part 1. There will be more to this, but rather than post a second story I'm just going to add more chapters to this one. But I wanted them to be separated into parts. I hope everyone has enjoyed so far and that you continue to. Thank you for reading and Please Review!**


	16. Begin Part 2

**The Warden & The Inquisitor**

 **Part 2**

 **Chapter 16**

Rhyan leaned her elbows on the desk and ran her hands through her hair. She remembered when the Blight began and she chopped her long red locks up to her chin. Short hair was easier to maintain and didn't get in the way in the heat of battle. Since killing the Archdemon she had allowed it to grow out again, reminding her of precious times as a child when her mother would braid her hair. Suddenly she considered cutting it short once again, though, as her son was growing by the day and he had a horrible habit of pulling her hair whenever he could get a grasp on it. Turning her attention back to the task before her, she picked up her quill and considered what to write. "We need to leave soon."

Alistair sat on the bed, their son between his legs, playing happily with the king's golem doll collection. "Soon?" he questioned, gaze darting across the room to his wife. "Can't we wait until Duncan is a little older?"

"We've waited long enough," Rhyan responded, running her fingers through the knots that had accumulated in her hair. "We may have gotten what we wanted, but there are surely Wardens out there who long for a life outside the order. A longer life, without the threat of someone like Corypheus taking control of them again. If I've found a way to give that to them, then it's our duty to do so."

Alistair pulled one of the dolls out of Duncan's small mouth. "What will we do with him then? You've refused to leave him alone for an extended period of time with anyone that wasn't me. And, admit it, you hesitated to even do that."

Rhyan watched her husband and son with attentive and loving eyes. Duncan reached for the next doll before him, clearly planning to discover the taste of it as well. "There must be someone we can leave him with."

"Teagan?"

"He's in the Free Marches for the Tourney."

"What about just leaving him here? He's got about a hundred nannies and nurses, and an entire army ready to protect him."

Rhyan shook her head. "Denerim isn't safe enough."

Alistair leaned back on his palms and groaned. "We can't exactly lock him up in some impenetrable fortress."

Rhyan's eyebrows perked up and she lifted the quill in her hand. "That's exactly what we'll do!" she exclaimed, turning back to her desk and writing feverishly.

Alistair sighed and looked down to find Duncan trying to eat yet another figure from his collection. "Why do I even try?"

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Rhysa watched the Inquisition. It had shrunk considerably. Where there was once an army ready to die for her cause, there was now a fair amount of soldiers with nowhere else to go. The Breach was closed, Orlais and Fereldan were stable, and a new Divine had been placed on the Sunburst throne. What was left for the Inquisition to decide? Hiding in the mountains of obscurity, what else could they possibly do? Rhysa knew her organization couldn't last forever, but she drew a blank each time she imagined what lay before them. The old Inquisition became the Seekers of Truth. Surely, she could sell them out to the Chantry and become another arm of persecution, but that's not what she wanted. Rhyan had seemed perfectly eager to envelope the group into Fereldan's army, and surely other countries would feel the same, but that too felt derogatory. She walked along the battlements, wondering if she should just let them die out organically.

She stopped walking, suddenly finding herself standing in front of the door that led to Cullen's office. Since the day she was thrust into the Inquisition's influence, Cullen had been her rock. He was strong, assured, and as handsome a man as she could ever imagine. She fell in love with him, and he with her. They planned a future together, beyond any other happenings, but it had swiftly unraveled when they returned from the Eluvian. She was distracted, and their love fell to the further reaches of her thoughts. The wedding was coldly postponed, and Cullen responded by ending their relationship entirely.

Rhysa looked at the wooden door and recalled the times she would excitedly wait for the moment when she could enter that office on some semblance of duty, and speak to the blonde-haired man. It was thrilling and wonderful at the same time, but now she knew what awaited her: an angry, hurt man, who wanted nothing to do with her. She considered turning around, when a scout opened the door from the inside.

"Inquisitor," he acknowledged, walking past her and leaving the door open behind him.

Rhysa hesitantly shuffled in, and Cullen, standing behind his desk, quickly noticed her. "Was there something you needed?" he asked, as if she had never been more to him than his Inquisitor.

Rhysa looked at the floor. "Anything I should know?" The words were old and hollow. They used to hold hope for her; there was a time she was excited just to be speaking with the Commander, but now they meant only one thing: there was nothing left to be said.

"Not at present," he responded professionally. "Was there anything else?"

Rhysa knew what she wanted to say. 'Yes! I love you. And you love me. And it's stupid that we're not together.' But, like everything else in her life, it just wasn't that simple. She felt bad that she had to break Cullen's heart in the process, but their separation was for the best. That's what she kept telling herself. She shook her head, though her heart felt like it had frozen over at his detached glare. She moved to leave his office, when a courier met her face to face. "A… A letter for you, Ser."

Rhysa took the parchment and examined it. Her named was penned neatly and assuredly in some shimmering ink. She knew the hand that had written it. What did Rhyan want now?


End file.
